The yellow dress of one last summer
Sits by the door as yet unworn.
Winter's heart is still unable
To slip from beneath the day's concern.

Two seeds, if planted together,
Oh, what beauty they might foretell.
Ring the bell with arms of courage,
This now third and final knell.

The empty room that you still frequent,
Picture-framed for all to see,
Contradicts my hope with silence,
Filling with tears the joy in me.

I wait on the promise you whispered,
At the crossroads, by the door,
For the dress to adorn your beauty
And live with me forevermore.

R.